Grand Larceny
by Beta Nova
Summary: "Speak of crimes again, instead." Slight AU. Oneshot. Gelphie.


**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.**

 **A/N: Just a brief encounter. Rachmaninov 2 optional for maximum baroque self-indulgence.**

* * *

The refreshment room at Central Terminus was busy when they came in, the winter wind at their backs, but then the approach of the 5.59 to Shiz Gate was announced and the room emptied considerably.

"Oh, there's a table by the window."

"You take it, and I'll go up. What do you want to drink?"

"Something bitter," said Glinda, feeling the breath catch in her throat as she pulled off her gloves. Elphaba went up to the counter, where a pert young girl in a white apron was flirting with one of the porters.

The adenoidal voice of the announcer came over the tannoy again. "The next train to arrive at Platform One will be the 6.15 service to Kellswater."

Glinda wished the tannoy would break. They had passed a miserable afternoon together, trying to put this moment off as best they could, but here it was hurtling towards them, and Glinda hated everything: the wilting flowers on the tables, the serving girl and the porter because they _could_ flirt with each other, the clock that refused to stop, the smooth running of the railways, the refusal of signals to fail.

Elphaba came back from the counter with two cups of tea which neither of them touched.

"Are you all right?"

"No."

"I wish I could say the right thing. But I don't know what that is."

"Drink your tea. It's going cold."

Elphaba pushed the cup away. Under the table Glinda pushed the side of her shoe against Elphaba's boot.

Their affair had been overdue, short, and had been conducted almost entirely in public places. Glinda could count the number of times they had kissed, _properly_. Always having to be furtive about it, and far too quick, pressed against the curving wall of the railway bridge in the dark – or other places equally uninviting. Anything else was impossible, for too many reasons.

She would remember those kisses all the rest of her life, long after she forgot where she was when they happened. There was such a weight of feeling in them, and such an agonising sense of waste. Of time. Of love.

Elphaba always held herself back a little – not in the way she kissed, but the holding itself: her hands on Glinda were always steady, cautious, circumspect, and Glinda loved her for that because they couldn't both be reckless. So she was the one who pressed the hardest, pushed the furthest, fumbling hastily over layers of coats and clothing in an approximation of where the line of Elphaba's waist was, her hips, her arms, the subtle curve of her breasts, and Elphaba was restrained, and listened for footsteps.

"We won't see one another for years."

"Probably not."

"Perhaps we'll be dead by then and this won't hurt anymore."

"I'd rather you didn't die. Then you really should never see me again."

"Don't say that."

"I'll stay and see you onto your train."

"No, it's better if you go first. I don't think I could stand to leave you behind. I know it's selfish, but I feel like I would do something stupid. Fall down on the carriage floor. Shriek my head off. I don't know."

The girl at the counter _did_ shriek, throwing her head back and laughing at a joke the porter had told.

"Oh, I feel as if I could murder someone!"

"You are so violently lovely."

"Does it have to be this way? After all – does it?"

"Glinda, you're married."

"Yes, but – "

"I am too," said Elphaba firmly. "In my own way."

"Yes. But that's not – "

"Do stop. Speak of crimes again, instead."

"Petty theft," said Glinda, trying to smile. "Grand larceny." She sighed. "Grievous harm."

"We should do very poorly together, you know. Very exciting at first, no doubt, but after the scandal and the expense were all over, and the ink was dry on the severance papers, you would look at me and begin to wonder what could have possessed you, and I would begin to find you wearisome. And there are – other commitments, on my side."

"I do _know_ that."

"We are not at all suited to permanence. Intermittence, now – that's different. We have been good at that."

"We've been far _too_ good! Don't you wish – "

"Excessively." said Elphaba. She was looking away, at the clock on the wall, but her tone sent a guilty ache rolling through Glinda. "Is that clock fast or slow?"

"Fast."

" _Glinda!_ "

A woman thrust herself into view, sitting down at the spare chair at their table without waiting for an invitation. Her arms were full of bags and packages which she began piling up between Elphaba and Glinda.

"Lurline, how perfectly delightful to catch _you_ here! I've been running around town all day long, and I'm simply _ragged_."

Glinda twisted a napkin, her knuckles white with the cruelty of it, the trampling-over of fortune.

"Shenshen, this is Elphaba Thropp."

"How do you do," said Shenshen, hardly giving Elphaba a second glance. "I was in absolute _fits_ I might miss the train! And then I saw you, Glinda, and I knew I hadn't. What a piece of luck. We can sit together on the way back. I do hate having to amuse myself on public transport. How do you two know each other?"

"We were friends," said Glinda, explaining nothing.

"Oh, a renewed acquaintance?"

"Only slightly," said Elphaba.

 _Dearest,_ she would whisper, with Glinda's hand halfway up her jumper in a way that was tawdry and innocent at once. _Sweetheart_. _What a pointless coup de foudre_.

The announcer's voice came over the tannoy. "The train now arriving at Platform One is the 6.15 to Kellswater. Platform One for Kellswater and transfers to all points west, please."

"That's your train," Glinda managed.

Shenshen was fussing with a hatbox. "Are you going so far, Miss Thropp?"

"Yes, I've had some business in the city this past month, but I live in the Vinkus. I've already sent my luggage on; I travel from Kellswater tomorrow."

"The Vinkus! Goodness me, how exotic."

Glinda pushed her chair back. "Excuse me, Shenshen. I'm going to walk Elphaba over to her platform."

"Why on earth?" Shenshen laughed, fluted and heedless. "You won't get lost, will you, Miss Thropp?"

"Indeed I have mislaid myself recently. There are one or two pieces still missing. I leave somewhat lessened."

"There, Glinda," said Shenshen, not having listened. "Miss Thropp can locate her platform perfectly well without assistance, and you can stay here with me. I wanted to ask your advice, anyway. Avaric wants to get Avaric Minor on the waiting list for St Bunce's. I still think eight is too young to send children away to school, but what do I know? I'm only the boy's mother. How lucky you are, not to have to worry about things like that! Anyway, I remember you mentioning once that Chuffrey knows someone who knows someone who knows the Chair of the Admissions Board, and – "

Elphaba got up. She picked up her gloves and scarf. "A pleasure to meet you," she said to Shenshen. "Glinda. Goodbye."

"Dear me, Miss Thropp! Your purse!"

Elphaba had dropped her purse. Coins scattered everywhere. "No, no, don't trouble yourself. I have it." She bent down under the table, scooped it up and left the coins. Glinda felt the cool, fleeting pressure of a hand on her knee.

It wasn't until she heard the closing of the café door that she could bring herself to look away from Shenshen's hatbox. The conductor's whistle sounded outside.

" – and so, I was wondering if you could pass on a good word. I know he's not the brightest _,_ he's very slow with his sums, but Avaric thinks if he learned to apply himself – although _he's_ been indolent all his own life, the card! Glinda, are you all right? You don't look well, all of a sudden. You should take a little soda water. Or a tonic, perhaps? Shall I call the girl to fetch some salts?"

Glinda said something – she didn't know what, words spilling out like pennies – and dashed out onto the concourse in time to see the tail end of the train snake away down the line.

"Oh!" The cry burst out of her and she put her fingers over her mouth. She bit the flesh of her thumb to stop the tears. A well-to-do, middle-aged housewife, longing to hurl herself onto the tracks like the kind of pathetic adulteress who haunted cheap literature. She rubbed at the teeth marks on her skin. She couldn't let Shenshen see those, when she went back inside.


End file.
